The night had fully settled by the time Elara, Morgana, and Thalia reached the northern camp. The fog had receded somewhat, but the air still felt thick with tension. Fires flickered among the soldiers, casting wavering shadows across their faces, which were etched with both exhaustion and apprehension. Everyone knew something was coming, something darker than before, and the weight of it pressed down on the camp like an impending storm.
Elias met them at the edge of the camp, his face a mix of relief and worry as he saw Thalia supported between Elara and Morgana.
"She made it," he breathed. "Thank the stars."
Elara nodded. "But she's hurt. We need to get her seen by the healers." Her voice was tight with worry, though her words carried the command of a leader who didn't have the luxury to falter.
